


Spiritum Meum

by DameMond



Series: land of dreamers; land of stars [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Guardian Angel!AU, I Can Only Touch You In My Dreams, IgNoct, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Game setting, is that a tag, well more like Guardian Spirit but the concept is exactly the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:04:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9182962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameMond/pseuds/DameMond
Summary: Records say every Lucis descendant destined to be King had a Spirit to guide them through their journey.But said Spirits can only be seen by them.Ignoct, Guardian Angel!AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the ffxv ending today and it _hurt_. I also had the Guardian Angel idea for a while now so I decided to go and give it a try. In here, Ignis can only be seen and heard by Noctis, and he's sent there as a Spirit to guide Noctis through his journey. He can do no more, only listen to the stars and help Noctis overcome his obstacles as he becomes King. This is all set through the years before the game starts.
> 
> Keep in mind English is not my mother language, so please if you find any slip, don't hesitate to tell me. Nicely, please, or your ebony will be _so hot you'll feel like you're kissing Ifrit's butt._
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_“I think we dream so we don’t have to be apart for so long. If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can be together all the time.”_  
― A.A. Milne

 

 

Old stories tell tales of Spirits of the Stars, guardians sent by the gods themselves to guide the Chosen descendants of Lucis to their Ascension and aid them on their ruling. Though the tales and records of their existence only came from the mouths and writings from the Kings themselves, for only they could see their own guardian.

 

Noctis is five when he meets his Spirit. He looks like he’s six or seven, not much older than him in any case. He also looks like a normal boy with normal clothes, brown hair and beautiful green eyes; he even has glasses on his face. Noctis stares at him from the floor of his quarters, toy car forgotten at his feet, unsure and curious.

 

“Who are you?” The prince asks. The boy stares back before smiling softly.

 

“I am your Spirit, Noctis Lucis Caelum,” his voice is gentle and has a strange accent to it. Noctis finds himself liking it. “Your destiny has been chosen by the Crystal, and I have also been chosen to be your guide.”

 

Noctis blinks once. Twice. He remembers something, vaguely, about spirits and guardians, but he’s too young to recall, let alone understand.

 

“You can call me Ignis,” the boy adds, never taking his eyes off the young prince as he stands up and approaches him, curiosity clear in his blue eyes.

 

Opposite to everything Ignis is expecting, Noctis lifts one of his small books they’re using to tutor him and says: “I can read very well. Want to see it?”

 

His Spirit widens his eyes in surprise, but can’t help the small smile on his face as he nods.

 

“Of course, Your Highness.”

 

When the maid comes, she finds the prince reading aloud to himself in his room.

 

* * *

 

 

His father had been busy the whole day, locked with the Crystal. When he returns, looking somber, and looks at Noctis as if he’s under a different light, the small child clings to his father and says he’s met a nice boy in his room.

 

Regis only holds him tighter. Noctis doesn’t understand why his father is crying. He wants him to _stop hurting_ and hugs him back, hoping it’ll help.

 

Ignis stares at them from behind.

 

* * *

 

Noctis is too young to fully register the weird looks he receives when he talks to Ignis around anyone. His mother and father are the only ones genuinely curious about Ignis, who follows him around like a shadow. Noctis doesn’t mind; he prefers Ignis over the servants that panic over him when he takes two steps, always scared he’ll hurt himself even with a small wooden block.

 

He notices Ignis never eats nor he sleeps, neither he touches anything around Noctis. It made him really upset once because he wanted to play blocks with him, but Ignis wouldn’t. In the end, he contented himself having Ignis sitting besides him and guiding him with the blocks.

 

His smile is _always_ patient.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis turns eight and Ignis looks like he’s ten.

 

“You’re a Spirit,” he says one night, catching Ignis off guard. “So how come you’re growing? I thought ghosts never got old...”

 

It’s such a weird question it gives Ignis pause for thought, but not before laughing softly at Noctis’ inquiry. “Well, for starters, I’m not a ghost,” he starts, sitting beside the prince on his bed. It doesn’t creak or move under his weight. “Us Spirits are supposed to remain here as long as our King does, Your Highness, so we’re given the same lifespan as them and we’re sent around their same age.”

 

Noctis grabs his pillow and pulls it on his lap, tapping on it as he nods. He should be sleeping, but curiosity gets the best of him.

 

“And where do you come from?”

 

Ignis turns around, pointing at Noctis’ balcony and to the night sky outside, the Moon’s light sneaking between the curtains.

 

“From the stars.”

 

* * *

 

“Dad, if all Kings of Lucis have a Spirit, does that mean you have one too?”

 

Regis looks up from his plate, catching Aulea glancing at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. He clears his throat. Ignis laughs behind Noctis and he turns around with a questioning look before looking back at his father.

 

“Yes, his name is Weskham.”

 

“And thanks to Weskham did we meet,” Noctis’ mother adds, ignoring the silent plea from Regis.

 

“Will you tell me the story one day?” Noctis inquires, hopeful, gaining a laugh out of his mother and a resigned sigh from his father, though he’s sure he sees the ghost of a smile in there.

 

“Sure thing, my dear. But not today, you need your rest for our travel tomorrow.”

 

Noctis fails to notice the sad look Ignis gives his mother before leaving the dining room.

 

Aulea never tells him that story and the last thing Noctis remembers before collapsing from the terrible, piercing pain in his back is his mother screaming and Ignis hovering over him.

 

* * *

 

Ignis listens to the stars as he watches Noctis’ breathe.They tell him tales of his charge to come; they prepare him so he’s ready. He has to guide prince Noctis and he _must not fail._

 

It had been close, too close for comfort, but Ignis had known it was in the stars for Noctis to end up like this and for Queen Aulea to pass. Now, it’s Ignis’ turn to have his hand on fate.

 

The Spirit allows himself a few seconds of mourning for Queen Aulea before entering the land of Dreams, following Carbuncle.

 

* * *

 

It’s the first time Noctis touches Ignis.

 

He’s confused, scared and in a foreign place. Carbuncle rubbing against his legs gives him some solace at least, but he wishes his mother and father were there with him.

 

Ignis extends his hand at him, giving him again that patient smile he always shows when Noctis wants to play with him. “I’ll take you to them. Just follow me and you won’t get lost.”

 

Hesitant, Noctis’ small hand grips Ignis’ fingers. It feels weird; he’d assumed Spirits couldn’t touch and neither they could be touched, but the warmth in his hand tells otherwise.

 

Noctis swallows his tears and, like a _grown boy_ (he pictures his father’s voice, encouraging and proud), he pushes forward, never letting go of his guardian as Carbuncle yips around them, guiding the way.

 

* * *

 

Noctis wakes. His father talks to him about Aulea.

 

He’s very quiet for days. Weeks. Months. He barely eats despite Ignis and his father begging him and he sleeps a lot.

 

When his father has to attend his duties, Noctis tries to tug Ignis’ sleeve.

 

His hand goes through it.

 

The child starts to cry, lonely and miserable, and Ignis feels something _break_ inside of him.

 

* * *

 

Noctis has changed. He begins to talk when he needs something now, but he still stays more quiet than he used to be. His father believes it’ll be better if he’s treated at Tenebrae, so he plans a trip.

 

Ignis always follows.

 

There’s an ugly scar on Noctis’ back and he has to move on a wheelchair, unable to walk on his own yet. There’s always someone around to push his wheelchair when his father isn’t, limiting his talking to his Spirit, now fully aware of the weird looks he gets both in his home and outside when he’s talking to _thin air_.

 

Strangely, Ignis misses when Noctis could talk to him with no restraints, like two normal friends playing as they used to. Ignis has showed him the stars through the windows for many nights, helped him when he got a word wrong while writing, read to him while Noct kept the book open for him and he’s been his favourite hide and seek playmate.

 

Now, he’s Noctis’ comfort when he wakes up from the nightmares. Knowing Ignis is there, watching over him, always sets the prince’s little heart at ease, and Ignis finds himself resting even if he doesn’t need to, listening to the stars and Noctis’ short breaths.

 

* * *

 

Noctis grows up. Ignis grows up with him.

 

The prince gets his own apartment in the Citadel, and of course, Ignis follows. Their apartment soon grows into a mess, but Ignis nags him enough next to his ear for Noctis to keep it clean. He also helps him during cooking, giving him instructions, but so far it’s been a _disaster._

 

He keeps a close eye on Gladiolus Amicitia when they train and he doesn’t miss the moment Prompto Argentum walks up to Noctis the first day of highschool. Ignis knows better than to talk to him now when he’s surrounded by people; it’ll only cause Noctis trouble and Ignis wishes for a normal life for his friend, so he keeps his distance, watching him send notes to Lady Lunafreya, go on his way safely with Prompto and get stronger with Gladiolus. He isn’t part of them, and thinking about it makes him feel _hollow_.

 

* * *

 

Noctis turns 17, Ignis looks like he’s 19.

 

Noctis is growing more and more into a handsome young man; he’s learning, _living_ and visiting his father on his free days. Noctis doesn’t like Nyx, his assigned driver, so he usually walks all the way with his headphones on to pass the time. Ignis is slowly getting used to watch from the shadows, only appearing when strictly necessary.

 

The stars tell him Noctis isn’t in danger, so he listens and hopes it stays that way for many, many years…

 

Ignis isn’t there as he used to. It bothers Noctis more than it should, and he sulks for a while.

 

* * *

 

It’s the first time Noctis has a nightmare after so long, but Ignis is nowhere to be found. He wakes up in cold sweat, heart thumping in his throat and blood roaring in his ears.

 

He can’t stop himself.

 

“Ignis…? Are you there?”

 

In a blink, his Spirit appears before him, green eyes looking at him behind his glasses. Noctis always wondered how he could wear them. Perhaps they were part of his “Spirit image”...

 

“Highness?” His voice is soft, as soft as the first day Noctis heard it, but this time it sends shivers down his spine. He can’t pinpoint why, so he swallows and pushes the thought away.

 

“Can you stay?” Noctis thinks he looks pathetic, begging at his Spirit to stay with him when he’s almost a grown man. Those green eyes stare at him behind his brown bangs with an emotion Noctis cannot quite decipher, and it’s only when Ignis nods that Noctis lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

“Anything for you, Your Highness.”

 

“You’ve always called me that.”

 

Ignis chuckles, sitting down next to Noct. For a moment he thinks of running his hand through his raven locks, but then remembers his… situation.

 

_What’s wrong with me?_

 

“ _It is_ your title, however,” Ignis retorts, pushing away any thoughts related to Noctis’ hair. “And I believe I should respect it.”

 

There’s a sigh coming out of the prince as he scoots closer to Ignis’ form. “We’ve known each other since we were children, Iggy.” Somehow, that little nickname makes Ignis smile despite himself. To his dismay, Noctis notices. “Ah, did you like it? Iggy. Iggy~”

 

He can’t help it now, he’s a snickering mess. “Highness, please, _behave_.”

 

“Call me Noct from now on and I’ll stop.”

 

A reluctant sigh leaves Ignis’ lips before he can stop it, though his smile betrays him completely. If he has to be honest with himself… he likes it when the prince takes those familiarities with him.

 

He knows he shouldn’t grow so close, but it makes him feel like he _belongs_.

 

“Alright,” he takes a breath. “Noct.”

 

The name feels weird rolling on his tongue, but the way Noctis smiles when he says it makes it _worth it._

 

He really, really wishes he could touch his hair.

 

* * *

 

Noctis begins to train with his father. It exhausts him, but Ignis can only watch as he drags himself to his apartment from Cor’s car and falls onto the bed, hissing in pain.

 

He wishes he could bring him a warm towel for his muscles right now.

 

“Ignis,” Noctis’ rasps, and he listens. “Don’t hate me, but I think I’ll skip class tomorrow.”

 

Even if he’s worried for Noctis’ ability to rule, his health is more important and Ignis knows Noct still has a long way before mastering the warping _and_ the armiger. In the end, he gives in to his prince, as he always did.

 

“Of course, Noct. You will need it.”

 

* * *

 

Noctis turns 18. Ignis looks like he’s 20.

 

Noctis has his first breakdown after piling so much with both trainings, the armiger and social gatherings he’s obligated to go to. He feels alone in his cold, spacey apartment and not even Ignis’ presence seems to be helping this time. He yearns for contract, for a hug, for someone to _hold_ him and tell him it _will_ be okay, and when he tries to reach for Ignis’ hand, resting near his head, his own hand passes through it.

 

It breaks Noct further and Ignis _can’t stand it,_ so when Noctis finally cries his way to sleep, Ignis prays to Carbuncle for _one favour._

* * *

Noctis is sure he’s dreaming.

 

He’s sure because there is no way he’d be in the middle of a forest in his pajamas. Let alone in the middle of a forest, in his pajamas _and with Ignis._

 

“Sorry for bringing you here,” his Spirit says, greatly confusing Noctis. “But I thought you’d like it where it was more tranquil. Maybe next time I can conjure up your room.”

 

The prince is definitely _lost_ . Is this Ignis _in_ his dream or is it an Ignis _from_ his dream? “You… you brought me here?” This dream, whatever it is, feels too real, even his voice does. “Why?”

 

Something in Ignis’ calm expression shifts and he extends his hand at Noctis. No words are needed between them, even if deep down a voice tells Noct his hand will pass through Ignis’ as if he was _pure smoke._

 

And yet, the gloved hand that is grasping his own feels very much real, _warm_ and _familiar_. Noctis is staring, unable to believe it. He looks at Ignis, then at their hands and then at Ignis again, who seems to be doing a _titanic_ effort not to laugh.

 

“Ignis…” Noctis croaks. “How— this is a dream, but it feels so real… what did you do?”

 

“Ah, I... may have asked for a bit of help to do this. It just bothered me greatly that you were distraught, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

 

Noctis is barely listening anymore, just thinking about _how much he wants Ignis to hold him._ It shouldn’t be right, but it _feels_ right, and before he can think anymore, he’s wrapped his arms around the man’s slender waist, feeling the neck of his purple, leopard-printed shirt tickle his nose as he buries his face on his shoulder. Laughter bubbles out of him because he finally, finally can _hold his friend_ and he doesn’t feel alone anymore.

 

“Finally, Iggy… I can hug you.”

 

Ignis forgets how to breathe.

 

* * *

 

Whenever Noctis sleeps, Ignis can visit now thanks to Carbuncle’s Blessing. It’s up to Ignis to enter Noctis’ dreams or not, but he always does, because the prince desires so _, and he does as well._

 

Sometimes they just talk, others they just touch, boundaries of Spirit and Chosen discarded away like an old rag. They don’t know what they’re doing, just that their hands feel nice when they run them through each other’s hair.

 

Noctis’ hair is as soft as Ignis had expected. He doesn’t even pretend to be mad when Noctis steals his glasses and puts them on, making a silly face.

 

Noctis sleeps more peacefully now that he has Ignis waiting for him.

 

* * *

 

One day, Noctis tells Prompto about Ignis in a cafeteria. Strange enough, Ignis is around to witness the whole thing and doesn’t miss when Noctis glances at him over his shoulder.

 

Prompto thinks he’s joking at first. Noctis swears he’s not, gives him a book about the previous Kings to prove it and describes Ignis with such detail that the Spirit feels a wave of fondness over him, thinking all the details the prince has memorized over the years.

 

“He wears glasses too, I think it’s just part of his image because he can’t touch stuff,” Noctis shrugs. “But his eyes are the best thing. He has beautiful green eyes, Prom. I wish you could see him.”

 

Prompto bursts out laughing, startling Noctis and snapping Ignis out of his daze because he _didn’t just hear what he clearly just heard_.

 

“You sound like you’ve got a hard crush dude,” Prompto winks at him. It’s enough to send the prince into a fumbling mess, burying his face in his hands, but Ignis is frozen in place, thankful he can’t be seen, because he’s sure he’s _very pale_ , damned be his appearance.

 

When Noctis turns around, Ignis isn’t there anymore.

 

* * *

 

Ignis begins to avoid Noctis, not even appearing in his dreams anymore, and it hurts the prince _greatly_. Noctis can only see him watching over him in the distance, but when he tries to approach, Ignis _vanishes_.

 

He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. They’d talked over this before: Noctis doesn’t want Ignis to avoid being part of his life for his sake like it’d happened a couple of years ago, so he does a mental list of things that he could’ve done to upset his Spirit, guide and _friend._

 

Is it his room, always messy until Ignis has to come and nag at him? That his cooking hasn’t improved despite Ignis trying to help him? Are his grades good enough? Does he train too much? Too little? Is he disappointing his guardian?

 

He never thought about it. The thought makes Noctis sink on the couch, feeling a knot on his stomach as he imagines those green eyes looking at him with disappointment.

 

Is it that he wrote about him in his letters to Luna? No, he’d been there when they met. In fact Luna was the first person out of his family Noctis had told about Ignis, and she’d received it well, even trying to talk to him. Noctis remembers, fondly, how Ignis would chuckle when Luna was close enough to face him to talk to him, but Noctis had to help her find the exact place.

 

Is it that he talked to Prompto about him? No, he didn’t seem bothered by the idea… But maybe _he should’ve asked._

 

In the end, he calls for Ignis, wanting to apologize.

 

And Ignis appears, as he should do.

 

But there’s something off in his expression as he looks at Noctis, almost like he’s a _stranger,_ and it’s like a dagger straight through his heart.

 

“I’m,” he begins with a shaky breath. He’s trying to look at Ignis, but he can’t do it for more than one second. His chest and face are burning.  “I’m sorry if I said something to upset you…”

 

Ignis’ expression falls, as if he’s just been slapped. “Highne—”

 

“Let me finish, please,” and Ignis bites his words. Noctis is thankful for it, he just wants Ignis to call him _Noct._  “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I wanted to say sorry. You’ve been avoiding me and _I don’t know why._ This isn’t like before.” One last intake of breath. “Something’s different between us, Iggy, and I want to know _why._ ”

 

He has to bite down the whimpering _please_ that threatens to come out of his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 _Not fair_ , Ignis thinks as he feels those begging blue eyes on him. _Not fair, Highness._

 

Ignis knows what it is. He knows it and _he hates it_ because it will only bring pain to his prince and to himself as well.

 

It’s forbidden. Ignis is disgusted at himself, to be _attracted to_ _his prince_ when he’s supposed to be his guide, his guardian, _his Spirit_.

 

Ignis needs _to breathe,_  and when he does he lets out a shaky breath. His prince’s eyes look at him with worry, a worry he does not deserve.

 

“You don’t understand, do you?” Ignis can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth and every fiber of his spiritual being is screaming at him to disappear somewhere else before he says something _stupid._

 

Yet his heart is bound to Noctis, who’s right in front of him, and so he finds himself unable to escape.

 

“I’m not upset at you, I’m upset at _myself._ ”

 

“At yourself? But, why?”

 

“Because,” and he chooses his words as carefully as he can. “Because I don’t want to bring more suffering into your life, Your Highness. So I should just stick to my duties when necessary.”

 

“Stop it, stop that,” Noctis’ voice gets louder, close to yelling. “You’d never do that, Ignis, you’ve always been there for me since I can remember, you’ve always _helped me,_ what makes you think you’ll ever hurt me?!” Ignis is about to retort, but Noctis’ keeps going, each phrase feeling like a slap to the face for him. “We watched the stars together for years, you played with me when I was a child, you grew up with me in the Citadel… When my mother died, you were there. When my father had to leave more often, _you were there_ . When I feel alone, _you are there. Y_ _ou’ve always been there!”_

 

Noctis’ voice cracks and Ignis _has_ to close his eyes, because he’s sure if he sees Noctis cry, he’ll break down with him.

 

“So don’t say you’ll hurt me, because you could never, Ignis.” His voice is quieter now, a sniffle filling the air and followed by a muttered “I don’t want to lose you”.

 

A pause.

 

“I wish it were that easy, Noct.”

 

“It is, Iggy.”

 

Ignis looks up at that, confused, seeing one of the prince’s rare smiles directed at him.

 

“Stay with me, just like we’ve done until now.”

 

“B-but—”

 

“I don’t care what comes between us, Ignis. You’re my Spirit, my friend… If something comes our way, we’ll endure it and—”

 

“I can’t escape from my feelings for you, Noct! It’s not that easy!”

 

_Drat._

 

It is too late when Ignis realizes what he’s done and registers the words that just went out of his mouth.

 

“Iggy…”

 

“Forget what I said. It was… improper of me, to outburst like that.”

 

“Iggy.”

 

“I shall stick to my advising duties when required and make sure you are crown—”

 

“ _Ignis._ ”

 

The demanding tone makes Ignis stop talking, his breath catching in his throat when he realizes how close Noctis is to his face.

 

And yet, when Noctis slowly raises a hand to his cheek… it passes through him.

 

Ignis can’t help the sigh that slips through his lips.

 

“This is what I meant…”

 

“This?” Noctis sounds so confused that it actually puzzles Ignis, pondering if he realizes at all what Ignis meant. “But Ignis, I _can_ touch you.”

 

“Yes, only when _you sleep_ ,” it hurts more to actually _say it_. “I can’t give you what any other living person can, Noct. They can hold you when you need it, they can kiss you, rub your back, save you in battles, bring you what you need when you are tired. I cannot do any of that, Noct. I’m supposed to just watch, advice the king to be and listen to the stars for what’s to come—”

 

_and I want to be greedy and touch you here as well._

 

“—I can’t do anything to make you feel good and loved, Noctis. You are the next King of Lucis and I am only your Spirit.”

 

That was it: his heart raw, broken and open to Noctis for him to take and maybe, hopefully, _crush it_ so Ignis could move on with his duties and _forget_ . Because he’s not allowed, he shouldn’t, something about his nature tells him _it’s not right._

 

“... you’re late for that.”

 

He’s sure he’s heard wrong, added to Noctis’ shaky breathing in front of him. “Pardon?”

 

“I’m saying you’re late, Ignis,” Noctis snaps right on his face. Ignis is sure if he actually had a body, Noctis would be grabbing his shoulders right now. “There’s none else except you in this _fucking_ world that’s ever make me feel like that, so I’m _calling bullshit_.” Noctis tries to poke his chest, but again, his finger goes right through it. However, he doesn’t stop, perhaps in reflex, Ignis notes. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and you’re late if you don’t want me to fall for you, _you jackass!_ ”

 

There’s so many emotions right now as Noctis regains his breath after his outburst, his face redder than Ignis had ever seen it before. The Spirit feels his mouth open and close, like a fish out of water, trying to gain coherence and get his _brain_ to work.

 

“You… you think I’m worthy of… you?”

 

“I swear to the Six— Ignis, you’re lucky I can’t touch you, because I’d be shaking you so hard right now—!”

 

That earns a laugh out of him, albeit nervous as he’s still trying to _swallow_ everything Noctis has said. “You… really think we can do this, Noct?”

 

“Come tonight to our forest and you’ll see.”

 

His blue eyes are filled with determination. Ignis feels himself drawn to them, like a moth to a flame. He can only hope not to burn, but he feels it’s too late for that as well.

 

“I’ll be there.”

 

* * *

 

And as promised, he enters in Noctis’ dreams, finding him fidgeting with a leaf near a blurry lake.

 

He knows everything between them will change, he feels it won’t be the same, and he’s _terrified_ of it, terrified of losing Noctis, terrified of getting away as well even if it’s for their wellbeing. It’s a mess, his head is swimming and he isn’t sure what he wants anymore.

 

Yet his legs are already taking him to where his prince waits.

 

“You kept me waiting, Iggy,” it’s an innocent comment, clear in the small smirk Noctis has, but it makes Ignis wince nonetheless.

 

“I… honestly didn’t want to. Apologies.”

 

Noctis probably notices, for he bites his lip and gets up instead of prompting Ignis to sit down as he’s prone to do. “Can I hug you?”

 

 _It’s… what?_ “You’ve never asked before.”

 

“ _Please_.”

 

It’s such a soft-sounding voice, that plea— Ignis knows he cannot resist; it makes his throat clench and his lips dry.

 

The moment he opens his arms Noctis dashes forward and cling to Ignis, _greedy,_ _demanding_ and desperate, making both tumble and fall to the ground with a soft _thud!_ , his knees pinning Ignis down at each side of his waist. The Spirit can barely catch his breath, and not exactly from the fall, but for the intensity of the prince’s blue eyes as he glances down at him.

 

Ignis closes his eyes at the feel of Noctis’ hand on his cheek, tilting his head towards it, tempted to kiss it. He’s given in, he realizes too late, even if his intention to resist for both of his sakes was clear in his mind _barely a couple of minutes_ before they were a mess on the floor.

 

And he knows, the moment Noctis leans over him to cover his dry lips with his own, biting and sucking and his hands roaming in pure instinct, he has lost himself to his prince.

 

 _Hardships be damned_ , he thinks as he kisses Noctis back until they can’t breathe anymore, his gloved hands roam under Noctis’ shirt and his skin there is so warm it makes his breath hitch; _as long as we have each other here_ , _it will be fine._

 

When he pulls away, Noctis is smiling at him and he finds himself smiling in return.

 

* * *

 

They talk. Ignis feels accepted, loved, even if he’s not supposed to feel like that, and promises to himself he’ll do anything in his hand to make the prince feel the same.

 

He meets Noctis every night, just like they used to do before, but it’s different this time. They’re more shy when they touch, sometimes they just kiss until they can’t feel their lips anymore or they whisper to each other until Noctis is a snickering mess. The prince tends to fall asleep on him as he brushes his hair, eyes lost in the night sky of their private forest, thanking the stars for this chance he’s been given.

 

* * *

 

Noctis turns 20. Ignis looks like he’s 22.

 

Noctis is to part to Altissia, to marry Lunafreya Nox Fleuret. Ignis had been present during the announcement Regis had made, but he only mentioned the matter once they were alone in the prince’s room.

 

Noctis is worried about how Ignis will take the news. Hell, even he himself isn’t used to the idea yet, but his Spirit just looks at him with that patient smile of his and Noctis knows _it’ll be alright._

 

“I promised I’ll stay with you, didn’t I, my prince?”

 

“Yeah,” Noctis breathes a sigh of relief, the stone he felt fall in his stomach disappearing the more he looks at his Spirit. “You did. I just…”

 

“You worry about us.”

 

He’d nailed the very obvious problem.

 

“If I can’t give you my days, you will have my nights, Ignis,” he swears, feeling more sure with each word that he speaks from his heart. “I give you my word, even if I have to do this for Lucis, _you’ll always have me_.”

 

That night, in the world of dreams, he kisses Ignis like he’s his only source of breathing and gives himself fully to him, receiving nothing but adoration and worship in return from the other man as he feels his hands roam through his body, burning wherever they brush with their touch as light as a feather, his breath next to his ear and every _bite, lick and scratch_ leaving a mark he knows he won’t be able to see in the morning. Noctis feels a small pang of sadness at the thought, but he shuts it away as he rolls over Ignis, lazily dropping kisses down his chest.

 

His thighs hurt, but it's worth it, seeing his guardian with that content smile on his face. Noctis himself feels full, and he falls asleep over his lover as if it's the most blessed bed on the world.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis won’t ever forget the first time they woke after that, with Noctis being as hard as a rock because of the dream, making a beeline for the bathroom, embarrassed, and leaving a chuckling Ignis at the other side of the door and _considerate enough_  to not remind Noctis he could phase through doors.

 

Perhaps another time he can take advantage of that as he has his prince’s whole life for himself now. The stars are quiet for Noctis, calm, and Ignis takes it as a good signal.

 

But now, they have a roadtrip to prepare for, and of course, Ignis will follow.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I... I did it...
> 
> Now you know why Noct sleeps so much, har har har...
> 
> Seriously though, I wanted to write as the game goes on, but I felt like it'd be a bit overwhelming. I will make a series of this and write oneshots following the game's story with the whole Spirit thing, focused more in one scenario than just write ficlets out of it.
> 
> Also, yes, Weskham is Regis' Spirit, but Regis doesn't talk to him in public much, he keeps it behind closed doors since he was a child due to the same reason as Noctis. It's in the books that Lucis royals had someone hey talked to, but people are still wary since not everyone bothers to pay attention and also, the fact than only one person in the whole world could see them. Each Spirit can only be seen by their King, so Ignis and Weskham do never meet or interact (this is some bullshit I made up because I couldn't write them for the hell of it even if it'd been interesting for this man to be Ignis' Spiritual mentor of sorts I am _so very sorry, I TRIED_. Also no, Gladiolus doesn't know... yet. Or Noctis thinks he doesn't know, but if Clarus knows about Regis, it's very likely he told Gladio about Noctis having a "little friend".
> 
> I also feel like this Noct is a bit less than a brat than he should be... but perhaps Iggy had something to do with it, I'll go with that for now.
> 
> Someone please take this AU from me and just do it justice. Save Spirit Iggy.


End file.
